Letters Received
by Lise Fahn277
Summary: When Frederick discovers a secret that Anne left behind at Kellynch Hall, things come to an early (and altogether happy) resolution. A light-hearted, mostly fluffy what-if.
1. Chapter 1

"Where could it possibly have ended up?" Frederick huffed as he finished digging through his wardrobe and trunks for the third time that night. He was to dine at Uppercross that night with Sophie and the Admiral, but for the life of him he could not find his boot. One had been sitting beside his bed but it's mate seemed to have grown legs and walked away. He chuckled to himself, remembering his mother's words when Sophie discovered yet another possession missing due to some prank of his or Edward's. That gave him an idea of exactly what might have happened.

Sophie could very well have hidden his boot but, he smirked to himself, she would never have put it somewhere truly difficult to find. He scanned the room once more. "Aha!" he flung himself forward and popped his head beneath the bed, finally spying the rogue boot and grasping it firmly. Upon drawing it out however, he discovered what seemed to be a portable writing chest stashed behind it. Given Sophie's recently rediscovered penchant for mischief, Frederick decided that it might be wisest to employ the chest in order to stay firmly ensconced in his room and guard his possessions. He pulled it out and placed it on his desk before pulling on his boots and heading down to join his sister for tonight's dinner party.

…..

Upon returning from Uppercross, Frederick glanced once more at the chest before retiring for the night and determining to investigate its contents in the morning.

When he awoke the next day, Frederick dressed and went down to breakfast where he received a letter from Harville. Well, he thought, pushing himself away from his now-empty plate, now was as good a time as any to open the writing chest and get to work.

…

While Captain Wentworth broke his fast at Kellynch Hall, Anne did the same at Uppercross Cottage, intending to finally finish unpacking and be able to answer her godmother's latest letter. She had yet to come across her writing chest in her unpacking and it pained her to be tardy in her response.

Ascending to her room after breakfast with Mary, she unpacked the last of her belongings and discovered that the staff had somehow failed to send on her writing chest with the rest of her things. She froze...if it had been left at Kellynch and one of the residents discovered it. Her heart cried out at even the thought of such a possibility.

…...

Frederick opened the top of the small chest eagerly and looked down to discover something that made him pause and then froze his blood.

Inside the chest were two stacks of letters, tied carefully together with ribbon, one of which was heartbreaking in its familiarity. Gingerly he lifted out the first stack, waves of pain washing over him as he recognized his own handwriting on the yellowed envelopes bound by the olive green ribbon he had given her because it reminded him of her eyes. Bitterness and anger flooded him at the sight and feel of those letters in his shaking fingers. After all these years, she still kept his letters, kept them when she wouldn't keep him or her promise to him.

Before he could do something rash (like throw them in the fire, rip them into tiny pieces, or weep once again over the woman who hadn't loved him enough) he gently placed the stack on his desk beside the chest and reached in for the other letters. This ribbon was not one he recognized, though he could see that it was cornflower blue and somewhat newer than the olive, but the name on these envelopes was his own. _Captain Frederick Wentworth_ was scrawled in the handwriting of Anne Elliot across the front of the first.

Should he open them? Certainly not! It would be a violation of her privacy. Then again...the letters were addressed to him and therefore his by right. With a firm tug, he undid the ribbon banding together the stack of letters.


	2. Chapter 2

After discovering her missing writing case, Anne had determined that she would set out immediately for Kellynch and request permission from Mrs. Croft to retrieve the wayward case before anyone else stumbled across it. In this however she was foiled by Mary's insistence that she really was quite unwell and that it would be too cruel if Anne left for a visit when Charles had already abandoned her for the day.

And so Anne was left to sit and stew and worry over the outcome of the Crofts or (heaven forbid) Captain Wentworth finding and opening the chest.

…..

One by one, Frederick had made his way through the letters, beginning with the oldest. He had read nearly 20 letters now that had been addressed to him by the woman he had loved and lost, the emotions of which ranged from self-castigation and agony over breaking their engagement to biting anger at him that he hadn't even stopped to listen when she asked only that they wait a year or two for him to become more established.

Was that really what she had been trying to say all those years ago? Not goodbye as he had thought, but patience to prove the strength of their attachment and give him time to establish himself in his career? What a fool he had been to ignore her pleading because his broken heart could only hear a rejection.

With shaking hands and shallow breath, he opened the last of the letters. It was dated the same day that Anne, the last of the Elliots to do so, had vacated Kellynch. He paused, what would she say in this letter? He wouldn't have thought that she even thought about him enough over the years to write him letters she would never send, let alone as recently as that! What did he want her to say?

He returned to the letter…

 _Dearest Frederick…_

…..

His tears splattered the page and ink smeared the the places the fell, causing him to jump up and blot the spots blurring the precious words. He hadn't noticed until now, but reading these letters had drained him of his bitterness and anger and this last one, this treasure he had discovered, had shown him his own heart and the woman he still held deep within.

"Anne," he whispered to himself. "How you have suffered these years!" But how could he tell her that he still loved her as well? He'd done everything in his power to hurt her over the past few weeks. How could he tell her that her unsent letters had finally shattered his stupidity? What if she didn't want him anymore? What if he had hurt her too badly with his recent foolishness?

There was only one way to find out. He pulled a fresh sheet of paper from the chest, dipped his pen in ink, and began to write.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh! No, there's no need to trouble yourself. I know where they ought to be and I'm certain the staff will know if they've been moved."

"Alright then, if you're certain. If you discover that you do require assistance, the Admiral and I will be in your lovely gardens," she said with a smile.

Anne thanked her and then proceeded directly upstairs to her former quarters. After checking briefly to ensure that no one else was in the hall, she knocked on the door and, after receiving no answer, slipped into the room.

The room was being used by Captain Wentworth, if the belongings on the desk and the nightstand were any indication. Closing her eyes for a moment, she fought back the pain that always came with reminders of him before taking a deep breath and opening them once more.

She scanned the room again, more carefully this time, and sighed in relief. Her chest was nowhere in sight. It must have gone undetected so far then, in spite of the room's current occupant.

Getting down on all-fours, she peeked under the bed. Yes. There it was! Just as she had left it. She pulled out the small chest and opened the lid.

…..

Frederick paced the gardens anxiously. He'd fled outside the moment he'd heard Anne's voice from the entryway. He knew exactly why she was here and could now do nothing but wait with bated breath for her to discover the letter in which he once again offered his heart.

…..

Her letters were gone! Anne's heart had leapt into her throat when she opened the writing chest to find them missing. In a panic, she frantically pulled out its contents, praying that she had simply placed them elsewhere in the chest before leaving Kellynch.

It seemed they were well and truly gone. With a heavy heart, Anne began to carefully replace everything she had just strewn over the bed that was formerly hers, now Frederick's. As she did so however, something caught her eye.

 _Her_ letters were missing, but here was a fresh letter with her name on it. _Miss Anne Elliot_ it said, in a very familiar hand. Her breath caught and her hands began to shake as she questioned whether or not she should read it.

It would likely contain no more than his anger at the audacity she had to keep his letters like some kind of treasure when she had already given up his heart, let alone to write new ones to him, even though she had not broken propriety by sending them.

But Anne had never been able to deny him anything, save for the one instance that had torn them apart.

Sitting carefully to avoid the embarrassment of her legs giving out, she opened the letter and began to read…

 _Anne…_


	4. Chapter 4

Anne couldn't breathe. Could this be true?! For the first time in 8 years, she felt her heart swell with hope.

Frederick. She must find Frederick!

She burst out of the room, no longer caring if anyone saw her exiting his room and ran directly into Jenny, who promptly dropped the armload of freshly-laundered linens in order to steady the former mistress they all loved.

"Miss Anne! Whatever is the matter?!"

"Frederick...I mean Captain Wentworth…" she gasped. "Where is he?"

"In the gardens, I think, Miss. I can fetch him if you like."

"No, thank you Jenny. I will go. The fresh air will do me good."

Jenny was left standing in the hall, crumpled linens at her feet, and her eyes wide as Miss Anne nearly ran for the stairway.

…..

Frederick sat on a bench with his head in his hands. She didn't get it. She hadn't found the letter. That was what he had decided. The alternative - that she no longer loved him, that he had driven her away - was too awful to contemplate.

Well, he had waited 8 years for her, he could wait a few days more. And if he hadn't heard from her by this time next week, he decided, he would call and offer her his hand and his heart once again.

The thought of waiting a few more days was torturous! He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose in agitation.

"Frederick?! Frederick?!"

He sprang to his feet at the sound of that voice and cried out with all his heart and soul in response. "Anne! I am here, Anne!"

…..

Sophie was laughing at one of the many strange observations her darling Admiral had made on the Kellynch gardens when a frantic voice broke their peaceful morning.

"Frederick?! Frederick?!"

"Good heavens!" Sophie gasped. "That sounds like Miss Elliot! What can have happened?!"

"I think you are right, my dear," the Admiral replied with a puzzled frown. "And whyever is she calling for Frederick instead of you?"

"Anne! I am here, Anne!"

"And that's Frederick, using her Christian name! Come, my dear! We'd best try and find them."

…..

"Anne! I am here, Anne!"

She bolted toward the voice, weaving through the gardens she knew so well.

"Frederick!" she cried again.

His voice, closer now, shouted back to her. "Anne!"

She could hear running footsteps now, heavy, booted ones and she followed them, turning a corner to see Frederick doing the same further down the pathway. Both froze momentarily before Anne, unwilling to let this chance slip away, broke into a run once more and flung herself into his arms.

…..

Frederick could scarcely believe it! Anne was in his arms once more, and he swore to never let her go again as they clung to each other.

His mind finally registered that Anne was saying something, sobbing out a single word over and over again. He leaned back to look at her.

There were tears streaming down her face and Frederick might have worried that he'd misinterpreted the whole thing were it not for the smile on her lips and the joy in her eyes.

He felt her small hand on his cheek as her eyes devoured him in turn until he crushed her body to his chest once more, desperately telling himself again and again that this was real. It was _real!_

…..

Anne could scarcely believe it! Frederick was holding her close, crushing her against him as if he never wished to let her go.

"Anne," he murmured into her hair, "Marry me, Anne."

Anne couldn't breathe. Was this really happening?! For so many years now she had hoped and prayed for this but had never been able to bring herself to truly believe it possible.

She pulled back and sought out his eyes, only to find her own tangled emotions reflected back at her. There was the desperate hope, the joy in their reunion, the all-consuming love...and the panicked fear that he had somehow misunderstood.

"Say it again, Frederick" she whispered. "Please."

"Marry me, Anne. Please."

Her only answer was to push up on her toes and press her mouth to his in a gentle kiss.

…..

Sophie could scarcely believe it! Miss Elliot was in Frederick's arms, and he was _kissing_ her!

She and the Admiral had hurried through the gardens, though it had taken them quite some time to find the pair as neither was particularly familiar with the grounds yet.

When the shouting had stopped, Sophie decided that the crisis must have passed, but determined to find either of the two parties and make certain of it.

To say that she had been shocked when she turned a corner only to find her brother and Miss Elliot locked in a firm and passionate embrace.

"Frederick!" she choked out.

He broke away from the kiss, his eyes never leaving Miss Elliot's, grinning like a fool! "Frederick!" Sophie snapped again before he finally met her eyes and she nearly stumbled.

For the first time in many years (8 to be precise), Sophie didn't see buried pain and bitterness in her brother's eyes, but unadulterated joy as he spoke. "Soph! You must congratulate me! Anne has consented to finally be my wife!"


End file.
